“And the light bulb went off!!! I used to WRITE!”

Sitting alone in my room. The house is quiet…so wonderfully quiet. I swear there isn’t enough of this in my life. I can usually appreciate the silence… or at least what we like to recognize as silence. You know, no TV, phone, laptop, tablet, wrist phone, kids fighting, dogs barking, cats meowing, etc. Just pure, peaceful, and beautiful silence.

It’s early spring and the warmer weather is slowly creeping in. My windows and balcony door are open. The smell of grass taking its first breath after the long slumber…the scent of eager flowers announcing themselves on a soft breeze…the distant sound of crickets…I should be in heaven right now. It’s peace and quiet right? Most often than not, it’s something I crave, covet, and adore…but not tonight. As I sit here listening to the “silence”, I find myself longing for the sound of a TV in the background or a call from my dearest girlfriend to distract me from the noise in my head.

See, I’m a writer who has had a 10+ year writers block; a story for another time. For 10 years, I haven’t written a single inspired or personal piece of work. Imagine 10 years of thoughts and ideas imprisoned in your head all scratching, pushing, and screaming to be the first one to reach the surface after being caged in the stressed recesses of my inner spirit and being. The silence is deafening. Dammit! Unfortunately after 10 years, they’re not quiet about wanting to stretch their legs and take a walk.

I’ve been stressed. OK, that’s an understatement…But, we’ll go with that for now. I’ve been trying to find some peace, inner peace. So I began thinking back to an earlier time in my life. A time when I felt like me. A time when the things that made me [me], presented themselves loud and clear…proudly. My thoughts traveled to benches, classroom desks, sandy shores, cars, parks, under the protective branches of my favorite weeping willows, my old room beneath my very “loved” hunter green Vellux blanket…all places I found comfort and serenity in. And the light bulb went off!!! I used to WRITE!

“Timing is everything…”

The other night I said to my boyfriend, “I think I’m going to start writing again”. The words were hurried & uncertain of themselves, but they were out there. And I knew I couldn’t turn back…nor did I want to. The very next day, this wonderful man put Medium on my phone. He’s my number one supporter. I put the true desire out there and the universe answered my call...thanks Universe…thanks babe! The Law of Attraction… a topic for another time, so stay tuned! This is going to be a process…LOL! Up until now (well, for 10 years) the desire to write has been subtle and passive. Almost like trying to relive a wonderfully delicious memory…unsuccessfully. Timing is everything. A resounding message that has repeated itself incessantly in the last year of my life. I guess my time has come…again. It’s like finding an old friend who has matured and changed over the years, but the ease and familiarity is just as you remember. Hello old friend…[insert hug]so wonderful to see you again!

Writing is therapeutic to me… always has been. As a little girl, I remember keeping journals that had little gold locks and came with shinny sets of keys to lock your most private thoughts away. Lol Ah, so young. There were journals, notebooks, scarp pieces of paper, napkins, envelopes from old bills, online journals, note pads, etc. Blank space? Just another opportunity to write...this was my life.

“Hello old friend…[insert hug]so wonderful to see you again!”

It’s documented my spiritual journey and evolving beliefs. It’s helped me heal a broken heart, kept from killing my ex- husband post divorce, taught my children(now 18 & 20 yrs old) the importance of creativity and personal expression, kept me sane in some very difficult situations, and immortalized some moments in raw and honest ways that would have otherwise, been lost to the ever struggling aging mind. It’s one of the most freeing outlets there is for me, and most importantly, it clears space in my inner energetic field. Once the words are out… they have a life of their own. Kind of like sending a child off to college. You did your job… nurtured the thought and set it free to grow and build upon its own blocks. Thus, making room for more thought and expression to come. Its so clearly a primal necessity in my life. Without my writing, my energies were blocked, grey, dull, clouded…suppressed.

Well, the block is gone. And instead of wondering what happened to my inner voice that used to wake me from my sleep with stories, songs, and poetry…I’m left wondering where I’ll find the time to tell you all about my 10 year hiatus and much, much more. I like this problem so much better :)